


Weak.

by GenuineLoudBoy



Series: Horns [3]
Category: Antisepticeye - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Archangel!Dark, Demon!Anti, Gore, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Control, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Angst, Rated For Violence, There is no smut, Violence, very mild angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-03 22:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14005950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenuineLoudBoy/pseuds/GenuineLoudBoy
Summary: He has his legs flung over the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as his head hangs down on his shoulders, trying to steady his breathing as he concentrates.He needs to talk with the Archangel. Well, more of needs to see the life from his eyes fade away as Anti plunges a blade through his ethereal body.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright! The third part is done! 
> 
> But I have to tell you, this takes place a little after the first part.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

Anti sits alone in Dark’s room. He has his legs flung over the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees as his head hangs down on his shoulders, trying to steady his breathing as he concentrates.

It’s almost been a week since Dark’s been here.

In that time he hasn’t left the house, and he hasn’t used any of his essence. He hasn’t had a need to use it.

This is the longest he’s gone without using at least some of his essence. And he’s feeling the consequences. His head has been hurting, and the back of his eyes have felt like someone was slightly pinching them.

It’s about the time when the cursed Archangel said he was coming home. Anti’s power has been replenished to the maximum for days now and it feels like it’s been overflowing and it _needs out._

By not having Dark be here for what might as well be a week and Anti not even using any of his power in that span of time tells how much control Dark has over Anti.  
He needs to talk with the angel. Well, more of needs to see the life from his eyes fade away as Anti plunges a blade or a bullet in his ethereal body.

He takes a blade out from the dresser drawer and he starts to rub at the handle with one hand, and he feels the edge with the other. He had made this blade himself from the embers and fire of hell itself.

He sighs as he slowly falls back down on the bed, throwing the knife off to the side of the bed, putting his hands down to rest of his chest as he looks up at the ceiling. He’s not going to get any sort of comfort or distraction from messing with it, so might as well not even try. He rubs his hands together as he feels them begin to shake. This is new…

There is, of course, strings attached to having so much power. Especially when you have all of it restored and just waiting to be let and out and to be used.  
He’s wanted to let it out. He’s wanted to let it out for days because all he wants to do is to just unwind and relax. He’s wanted to let out his horns and just, rest. But every time he wants to, every time he makes a move to let them out, he stops himself.  
It’s like, what he guesses, what humans go through if they have a knife in their hand and they’re by another person, and they want to stab the other person. Just to see what it’d be like to kill.  
Or when they’re walking down a sidewalk that has cars blazing on the roads and they have an urge to jump in the middle of the road while cars are going by, just to see. But nothing happens. They don’t do any of the dark urges that they have.

He understands the feeling for humans; it’s the feeling where humans feel like they’re in complete control of the future ahead of them and they have an urge to be in complete control.  
But…He doesn’t feel that.

He’s always in control. He always has a grasp on his control and what happens, but now? All he feels like his body is keeping a leash on him. And why is his body doing this? All because he needs to keep his essence and save it for the complete opposite of the creature he is? To save it for an Archangel? A fallen one, no less?  
There is no threat in not giving Dark his daily fix. The Angel himself can barely function without Anti’s power. Even if Anti doesn’t have any for him, he can’t do anything because he always comes back with just enough energy to get more from the demon. Even if he denies Dark from having any power, he can’t do anything to actually force Anti to give it to him. He can destroy Dark with in a pull of a trigger, a single thrust from his blade, a single blow from bare hands; He could kill Dark so easily.

But he can’t. Do you know why? Because _he is weak_.

That’s what he is, he’s too _fucking_ weak to kill an easy target. An easy, _archangel_ , no less. There’s a heavenly fallen archangel that he could easily have wrapped under his thumb and manipulate and use him any way he pleases. But what does he do? He succumbs to Dark’s plan of ‘taking over the angels’ why does he want to do that? Anti has a thought. It’s all to feed his big ego. It’s all to, feel like he’s in control and all powerful, blah, blah, blah. It’s all to feed his ego and Anti knows it.

And him? Poor ol’ demon Anti? _Dark’s_ the one who’s got _Anti_ under _his_ thumb. He has him wrapped around it so tight his finger might just pop off.  
Anti knows he’s being manipulated. He’s known it the second the damn angel first took his essence. He knew it, he knew because he’s messed with fallen angels before. And it’s just amplified and a bit more professional when it’s a fallen _arch_ angel.

As Anti drifts off into meaningless thought, he feels something that feels like a _pulse_ run through his body, the sides of his vision go dark as the sides of his head _burns_ with the pulses. He groans as he sits up with a grimace, but he sat up too fast and that left his head spinning.

“No. Not right _fucking_ now!” Anti growls as he shuts his eyes tightly, putting his hands to the sides of his head, desperately trying to keep his horns in. He stands up from the bed as he blindly stumbles toward what he thinks is a far wall. Once he reaches the wall, he plants his back against it as he holds the sides of his head.

He hasn’t has this much bottled inside of him for this long…His form is too restricted, _he needs his horns out_ and he needs them out _now_. But he can’t-.

He feels his horns forcefully push through his skin as they slowly start to dig into Anti’s palms and Anti screams. He feels the sides of his eyes start to burn as his essence starts to black out his eyes. As soon as he feels his eyes start to blacken, his eyes force open and he sees the outer sides of his vision become dark. He stumbles off of the wall, and collapses on the ground with a shout of pain as another pulse of pain strikes through his head like a the head of a spear just stabbed through his skull and out the other end.

Anti loses control of his breath as he tries to control his power from leaking any more. His breath hitches as his horns start to push out harder out of his skull, and Anti starts to scream and whimper from the pain.

“Stop it, stop it!” Anti barks out, speech going in and out from two voices; his natural and then his power infused. He falls down on his side, curling in a fetal position as he continues to desperately try to keep his power from being pushed out as he feels tears cascade down his face and down to the floor under him.

“Anti-?” He hears a familiar voice say.

Anti screams out Dark’s true name as loud as he can, as he tries to look toward the open bedroom door.

“Anti!” He hears Dark exclaim, and he feels Dark pick him up off of the floor as he puts gently sits the demon down on the bed. Dark forces Anti’s hands away from his head, Anti looks up toward Dark and he sees the Archangel’s expression of true concern in his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Anti says as he roughly grabs at Dark’s tie-less suit jacket. “TAKE IT!” Anti screams as he pulls Dark in for a rough kiss.  
The Angel obliges as he puts a hand on Anti’s hip, while guiding him to lay down on the bed, as Dark leans over him, kissing him.

Anti feels his Horns break through his skin effortlessly and easily without the striking pain, and he feels the burn from his eyes as they fully black out. He feels the pain from everything fade away as he begins to relax and even smiling.

He smiles for the sweet release of pain as Dark takes away his essence, but he screams and cries in the far parts of his mind as he feels his power being taken away from him.

_Weak._


	2. Chapter 2

Anti’s eyes slowly opened in the early sun light.

As he sat up, a sharp pain shot through his body, attacking the sides of his head and behind his eyes. He groans loudly as he tries to put pressure on his head, trying to somehow relieve the pain as he hunched over, legs under the covers.

He slowly opens his eyes through the pain of the pulses, and he looks around. Just as he expected, the damn Archangel is gone and Anti’s alone in the room.

He sighs. Everything begins to bring back a tired ache due to the pathetic events of the night before. He sneers as he drags his legs out from the covers, running his hands down his face before he stands up, using his knees as some sort of leverage to help him.  
He walks out of the bedroom, as he goes toward the kitchen. Once he enters the kitchen, he sees a pot of hot coffee that’s been ready to pour for who knows how long.

It’s been a habit the archangel picked up once he found out how much Anti drank it, every morning he would make a pot of hot coffee until Anti came down and turned it off or started a new pot.  
He doesn’t care how he gets his coffee, it’s the matter of getting it and not how he got it.

He pours himself a cup of coffee, and he sits down on one of the stools by the bar.

He gently places the mug down on the counter top. He places his elbows down on the counter, and he holds his chin up, thinking.

 _“You like this, don’t you?”_ He hears as he remembers the events last night with the Angel. The demon closes his eyes, as he goes back just hours before.

_“You like the feeling of me taking your essence away, don’t you? You like the feeling of an Archangel defiling your beautiful, hellish body and taking away something you’ve worked so hard for, don’t you?”_

Truth was? He didn’t like it. He absolutely _hated_ it. But…He can’t help the memory of the heat in his chest as he feels his essence leave him with every kiss and with every word that leaves Dark’s mouth. He can’t help the heat rise in his chest as he thinks back to it.

He broke his little spell as he takes a drink from his mug, causing the feeling to go away as soon as it came. He swallows, feeling the coffee scold his throat as he places it back down, but he doesn’t care.  

He doesn’t…

He doesn’t get it.

For the first time since he can remember, he doesn’t understand. Why doesn’t he just _leave_? Or just _kill_ the damn angel? It’s like he’s not even himself. At the very least, why doesn’t he just leave the house and go kill? He hasn’t done that in _god_ knows how long.

“Fuck it.” Anti says aloud, drinking the rest of his coffee, using some of his regenerating essence to materialize a shirt, coat and boots before he walks toward the front door. He opens the door, and he feels a smile grow on his face as he smells the air. The house that Dark has in in a remote location that’s surrounded by trees, hidden by all humans. But that smile soon falls.

He doesn’t have enough essence restored to make a quick trip and back to and from anywhere yet. But, if Dark is any sort of an angel, he’s going to be prepared for anything. Whatever it may be.  
And he assumed right, because the first thing he saw when he opened the garage –That he didn’t even know was there- was a motorcycle. He walked up to it, saw that the keys were in the ignition already, and the gas tank was up. The demon smirked as he started up the vehicle, and riding away.

He arrives at the town where he usually goes into for a casual rest, the one with his favorite bar with his favorite, fast bartender. He parks his bike in the parking lot, and walks into the doors.

Something’s off.

Once he walks in, he doesn’t feel the fear radiating off of anyone in the building. But that doesn’t make him stop or hesitate. He keeps walking through the building and past the tables as he walks up to the bar. He sets himself down on one of the stools, and just before he put his fingers up, he notices that the bartender isn’t even afraid.

“Hey, Demon.” The bartender greets absentmindedly as he cleans a glass. The bartender looks toward him, and then looks at the hands that are placed down on the counter top. This man smirks and lets out a fucking _chuckle_.     
“Look like little demon hasn’t killed in a while, huh? What’re doing, taking a break or somethin’?” the bartender says to him, as he serves another person in his usual quick succession. He feels his horns threaten to break out, but they don’t. He won’t let them.

“Heh.” He muses. “Maybe I am, or maybe I’m saving my clean hands for your customers. Or maybe even you, who knows.” He laughs himself at the end, letting the laughs settle and at the bottom of his throat, to let them come out nice and deep. The bartender laughs again, shaking his head as he slides Anti a beer.

“Wow Anti, that’s a pretty shit excuse to say you’ve been the bitch to an angel of all things” The bartender says, as he starts to clean the counter of spilt drinks.

“What?” Anti growls as he looks up from his drink. Once he looks up, the bartender’s face blurs and his voice goes to a muted silence as a ringing starts to grow in his ears. Anti looks behind him at the other patrons in the bar. He sees them all look toward him, they all point at them as they have the _audacity_ to _fucking_ laugh.

“Look! It’s the archangel’s whore of a demon!”  
“Isn’t that the demon that killed all the other angels or demons, though?”  
“Are you kidding me?! This ‘demon’ is _so_ far from _that_.”  
“It’s the bottom bitch to the angel!”  
“ _That_ is a _demon_? Wow.”

They’re _mocking_ him.

They are all _mocking_ him and his name and he’s not even **_fucking_** doing **_anything_**?!

“What? Can’t little kitty get her claws out and get rid of all the bad men?” He looks toward the bartender, who is the owner of those words.  
“Little lamb in wolves clothing finally found out the truth? What’re you going to do now, run back to your angel?”

Anti’s head is bent down, listening to their deafening mocks. He can’t take it. He can’t…

Before he could even think through everything thoroughly, he reeled back behind him, grabbing a nearby beer bottle from another place on the bar and smashing it against the first head it came to, which was a patron. With the broken bottle, he turned back behind him, stabbing the bartender in the temple, causing him to fucking _scream_ in pain.  
Two guys jumped on him, both men grabbing him by his arms. But the way that they held his arms was the perfect way to reel his hands over their arms toward their hands, taking them in his palms and crashing their two skulls together emitting an audible _crack_.

Two more patrons tried to jump him as well, but before they could, he stabbed a man in the heart with a knife he stole from one of the other dead patrons, now bleeding out on the ground. He pulled the blade out of the man’s chest, and stabbing the woman that was on the other side of him with it, harshly pulling the knife down her abdomen, enjoying the feeling of pure human blood on his hands.

But he can’t hear their screams through the aching, _screeching ring_ echoing in his head.

He screamed as he grabbed one of them by the head with his thumbs on the inner corners of their eye sockets, thrusting his thumbs forward causing their eyeballs to pop out of the sockets. And he sees the patrons bellows him, trying to stop the bleeding in his eyes, and Anti sees them screaming and hiccupping through the pain of it. He felt a surge go through him as he turned toward the other patron, taking the blade out of the woman’s now open abdomen, taking that blade, leaping up and stabbed the last patron’s throat at the side, and roughly pulling toward him, cutting open half of the patron’s neck. Leaving their head to barely hang onto their spine.

He stands back from his chaos he caused.

Mm, _He_ caused…Oh that sounds _incredible_!

 But as he looked down at his hands, there was no blood. He couldn’t feel it anymore. He looked toward the bodies.

Nothing.

He looked around him, and he sees…

Darkness. He can’t see anything and the only thing he can hear in that infuriating ringing. Anti clutched the sides of his skull once more, for fear of his horns getting out without his say. He screams, he tries to do anything be free from the incessant _fucking ringing_.

He opens his eyes to their bedroom, hand clutching the sides of his head, throat feeling sore. He slowly drops his hands down on his lap, and looks out the window to an early morning. 

_A dream, huh?_

he thinks, as he feeling the ghost feeling of his horns linger on the sides of his skull. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! So, when I first uploaded this, it was early in the morning and I wanted to upload it before I left my house.  
> So far, I've gotten comments being a bit confused at the ending, and so I changed it to be a little bit clearer now! 
> 
> But as always, if you're still confused about something, feel free to ask in the comments :D

**Author's Note:**

> This series is going to be all over the place, jumping from past from present a LOT so please bare with me! 
> 
> But hope you enjoyed!  
> If you have any questions or if you're confused about something, feel free to say so in the comments and I will try to answer them the best I can :D


End file.
